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User blog:Psychomantis108/Story: Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - Chapter 16: The Borderlands
It had been two days since the group arrived in Bruma, where Nair was instantly taken into care, in the chapel's undercroft. Bologra recieved some medical attention as well but grew tired of the old priests fussing over him, it wasn't long before he stood up and walked out of the establishment, itching to see the blacksmith about installing a bayonet on his arm brace. It took him some time to explain what he wanted from the old Nord, who seemed confused about the request at first, which only added to the Orsimer's frustrations. After a lot of explaining and negotiating, Bologra was able to modify his arm brace, get a bayonet blade and replace his lost hand axe, with a Nordic one for a pretty decent price. Arlas and her Orsimer companion opted to stay in Olav's Tap and Tac, after Arlas insisted on visiting the statue of the Hero of Kvatch, which had unfortunately rotted away over the years, to the point that it was impossible to tell if he or she was a man, mer or beast. Restoration is near impossible as few 'remember' their features and those who do could most likely be lying, the Altmer would be the first to take the credit if they could and historical accounts, even the Heroes' Diary has three 'official' versions, though the legitimate one was supposedly taken by the Thalmor, during their raid on the White Gold tower. After an interesting but exhausting day, the Bosmer and her Orsimer companion finally took refuge at the cheap inn, taking a seat at the center of the cosy room, by the fire. Cosy, of course, was the polite word for 'incredibly small,' in fact it was so small that Bologra took at least five percent of it, with his large build. The Orsimer sat at his table, with his arm brace resting on its meager but sturdy wooden surface as Arlas approached, placing the two meads in front of him before taking a seat and rubbing her hands in her lap. "F-Freezing up here... How do people stand it?" She asked, glancing up to the Orc, who didn't seem remotely bothered by the low temperature. He simply shrugged as he reached for his drink, knocking some of it back. "Well, I grew up in Skyrim, it wasn't like this all the time but...' '''Just keep moving and drink lots of ale, that was my secret." Arlas glanced to her cup before taking his advice, well half of it, though from what she'd heard alchohol was the worst thing that you could drink in the cold, scientifically speaking. Though, then again, if you're drunk, you don't care about the cold. The Bosmer took a mouthful of the frothy ale, swallowing it back and licking the foam off of her lips before turning her attention back to the Orc. "What was it like up there?" She asked, finding herself intrigued as she was tempted to visit it some day... "Skyrim? It's a frozen shit hole, full of racist Nord morons and crazy wildlife and that was before the dragons started showing up." "Dragons? Wait... Did you see one?" She asked, finding herself to be a little excited at that prospect, prompting the Orsimer to laugh. "Sort of, one flew over us once... We just saw it's shadow along the ground, got jumpy whenever a bird flew overhead after that." Bologra explained, knocking back some more ale before slamming the mug down on the table, wiping the foam from his beard with his forearm. Arlas glanced up to the Orc, with a smile, she found his story to be interesting but she couldn’t help but pick up on something… “Who’s us?” “Hmm? Oh, Me, my Brothers and my old man… We lived in one of those Orc forts for a while, until the Old Man kicked the bucket, me and Bugdul hit the road, whilst Besrath hit the road.” He explained, figuring that it would be confusing to an outsider; still Arlas seemed to understand, seeing that Skyrim wasn’t really the Orsimer’s natural territory. “Was Besrath the Brother you lost?” Arlas asked, though she was pretty hesitant about doing so, given how much of a delicate subject that might be. “Er… No, that was Bugdul. Asshole got a little big headed, when robbing folks. Made his own bandit clan and everything, I figured we were better off as mercs but…” He then paused and shrugged, knocking back what was left of his ale. “He knew better, clearly…” The Acolyte fell silent as she wrapped her comparatively smaller hands around her cup, staring ahead into the fireplace as she sighed heavily. “To be honest… I kind of envy you, I never had any friends or family growing up, no one close to me has ever died. It makes things… Hella boring, y’know?” The Bosmer sighed, glancing back up to the Orsimer, who sat as still as a rock, watching her as she spoke. “Father Lorius found me as a baby, he and his people took me in… Raised me as one of their own, which is both good and… Well, shit. I mean, it’s not that I’m ungrateful but… I don’t know, I guess I’d just like to go my own way, do my own thing. Help people the way that I want to, y’know? Rather than be tied to the service of some Gods my whole life.” The Bosmer explained, tapping her fingers on the table before retaking her cup and knocking the ale back down her throat again. “Why don’t you? I mean… You don’t '''have' to be a Priest, do you?” Bologra asked, not knowing for certain but there was always a way out for him, so long as he was big, loud and foreboding enough to intimidate someone into giving him his way. If that didn’t work, he just beat the crap out of them… Arlas couldn’t help but shrug at that, she honestly didn’t know at this point. She could drop the priesthood but Lorius would be incredibly disappointed, what would she do instead? She’d just be condemning herself… But at least she’d be free… “I’m… I just don’t want to disappoint Father Lorius.” The Bosmer explained, with a sigh, getting Bologra to raise his eyebrows. “Heh… Too late, you probably already have.” Arlas glanced up, wondering what he meant by that, though it sounded insensitive she could tell that there was some sort of point behind it. “Family, they always want you to do what’s best for you… It’s like Bugdul, wantin’ to be a bandit chief? Best decision I ever made was telling him to beat it, so that I could do what I wanted to do. I mean, yeah, I’m not the best merc… hell, I ain’t even good but I’m alive and he ain’t and if I die, it’ll be for a better cause than keeping my territory.” The Orc explained, folding his stump arm over his normal once as he leant forward, hanging his head in contemplation. Arlas remained silent for a moment before nodding in agreement that made sense to her. She could be a healer, without being a Priest. She loved helping people, she could even work with or for the Chapel without accepting any vows. The Bosmer’s eyes quickly squinted as her heavy eyelids stifled and she found herself uncontrollably yawning, much to the Orsimer’s amusement. “Heh… Bedtime kiddo.” He mocked, slowly standing up, accidentally knocking his chair over as he did so, whilst Arlas shook her head in protest. “It’s not even late…” She sighed, though she knew that he was right, they did have a long day ahead of them. Still, she was enjoying this talk, between this and Crovenhoft, she was starting to feel like a normal person, who had friends… Maybe it could last? Arlas slowly rose to her feet and looked back over her shoulder to her rooms, snatching Lorwel’s staff from her back as she wandered over to her room, finding herself to be walking in Bologra’s shadow. The Orsimer followed her over to the door of her room as she opened it and gave her a nod and a smile as she stepped in, he waited at the door as she approached her bed and began to examine her bed, quickly pulling the covers back before turning to her companion. “This time tomorrow? We’ll be free…” Bologra gave a slight grimacing smile as he was too tired to emote properly, he glanced down to the floor for a second. “We’ll see…” He replied, unable to hide his doubt, when it came to Jorane Lorwel’s word. Arlas couldn’t help but agree with his suspicions but she liked to think that they would be free no matter what; she just hoped that Lorwel wasn’t that much of a traitor. “G’night, Bologra…” The Orsimer gave her a nod, slowly pulling the door to a close… “G’night…” The gates of Bruma slowly opened for the group as the City Guards opened the way for them; they stood between the two doors as they stared out into the wilderness, which was still being warmed up by the morning sun. Arlas, Bologra and Nair waited for the gates to fully open before making their way out, Bologra just marched past the guards, not thinking to acknowledge them. Nair was too injured to remember such courtesy, leaving Arlas to give them a respectful nod to thank them before she joined Nair at the back of the group. She was a little hesitant about leaving the city, even if it was only for a few hours, as Nair was only just on his feet. He insisted that he was fine and that he’d just need to take it easy but the Acolyte couldn’t help but feel that he was putting on a brave face as he looked like she could knock him to the ground, with a gentle push. The Khajiit didn’t seem too concerned with his own injuries and simply pushed on, doing his best to keep up with Bologra, who was slowing down a little so that the two of them could keep up. It was obvious that he was putting in quite a bit of effort to regulate his walking speed as Arlas could tell that he wanted to see the end of this soon, frankly she sympathised with him. Especially since he’d lost his hand to this mad quest as well as his life, Nair came even closer to losing his and Arlas would be lying if she said that receiving that boot to the face was made worth it by anything. Their journey would be over soon and though that would be the end of many of Arlas’ problems, it would also be the beginning of some new ones. What would she do from here on out? Being a freelance healer sounded appealing, if Bologra and Nair were willing she could always hire them as bodyguards as neither of them seemed to have plans either, she could give them a trial run for a bit as they were capable fighters and… somewhat pleasant company. She trusted them at least, which is more than she could say for a stranger. Arlas was still unsure as to whether or not she wanted to leave the chapel behind her, it’s not like she had any ambitions of a family life or to be rich, she was pretty much reliant on the chapel’s shelter and almost endless supply of food. Still, she couldn’t help but want to be free, she couldn’t help but wish that she could lead her own life and develop her own survival skills and carve her own path in the world. She was old enough to take care of herself and skilled enough as a healer to help anyone that she crossed paths with. The Bosmer, still undecided, decided to shelve the matter as she focussed on the path ahead as it lead her further north, towards the borderlands between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. It was at this moment that Nair’s, originally slow and timid walk, came to a slight shuffle as he found himself slowing down. His injuries were flaring up again, prompting Arlas to grind to a halt as she observed him struggling. After a few moments, to check if it was a fluke, the Bosmer stepped in, to check on his condition. “Nair… Are you okay?” She asked, placing a hand on his forearm, which was place across his chest. His pained expression quickly vanished as he looked to her blankly, like he had no idea what she was talking about. “Sorry?” He asked, playing dumb as he tried to shrug the crippling pain off. “Y-Yeah… I’m fine…” The Khajiit winced as he felt a sharp stabbing pain shoot through his rib cage; prompting Arlas to rush around him and take hold of his shoulders as he stumbled back, against a rock. “Nair… You aren’t fine!” She insisted, looking him over for any sign of his injuries coming undone. “I knew that we shouldn’t have brought you… It’s too soon!” “N-No! I’ll be fine… It’s just a stitch is all… fatigue and the like…” Bologra stopped and glanced over his shoulder, wondering what the hold up was. He turned his head back, over his shoulder and saw that Arlas was fussing over him as usual, whilst the Khajiit sat on the floor, licking his wounds. Dammit… I told you we shouldn’t have brought the scrote-licker out… Bologra grumbled inside his head, glancing back over his shoulder as his arms swayed from side to side. He was growing impatient at this point, with his goal so close to him, yet he was being held back by dead weight. “Nair… If you need to turn back…” Arlas began, though she quickly found herself being cut off as the Khajiit raised his hand. “N-No… That won’t be necessary…” He insisted, forcing himself to his feet, rather hurriedly as he spoke, trying to prove his point. “I… Just needed a moment is all…” Arlas just continued to stare at him, fighting every urge in her head to tell him to turn back. The Khajiit had a long way to go before he’d reach the cave’s entrance and if he did make it without incident, he’d still have to fight his way inside and the three of them had no idea what they’ll be up against… “Nair… You don’t owe us anything, you know that, right?” Arlas asked, lousily hiding her concern with her tone of voice. “We… I don’t want you getting even more hurt or worse out here.” Nair glanced down to Arlas’ hips as he felt a little awkward staring at her face, a quick glance before meeting her eyes again, this time with renewed vigour. “Arlas… It’s okay, I can do this.” He insisted once more before turning back to Bologra, giving him a nod as a gesture to move on. “Move on my jolly green friend.” Bologra returned the nod, unable to hide his respectful smile as he did so, he honestly didn’t think that the cat would push on. Scrote licker’s got stones, I’ll give ‘im that… The Orsimer turned back to the North, continuing his ascent, whilst Nair picked up the pace again and his Acolyte companion hung back to catch him if he fell. They were so close at this point; it was almost precisely where Arlas had said. Lorwel was able to implant the memory, like it was her own, like this was a cherished childhood hideout or a former home of hers. It was a rather unsettling feeling that she could have an attachment to a place that she’d never seen before, that her thoughts, feelings and memories could be so easily manipulated. Either way, as unsettling as this was, it was still majorly helpful, she was glad that she and her companions wouldn’t have any trouble finding the place as that was the last thing that they needed… Bologra was the first to reach the top of the hill, stumbling on some pebbles as he clawed his way to the top, standing tall at the summit as his eyes fell upon the cave. He stood, grinning broadly at the cave as he place his hand and stump on his hips, basking in the glory of the group’s victory. They were finally at the cave, the final resting place of Lorwel’s axe and in less than an hour, they would have it in their hands. Somehow, even Bologra knew that this wasn’t going to be easy, it never was, there was probably something blocking their path. The Orc knew that this was coming and hoped that he’d have to slay something impressive for the axe, maybe a dragon or something… As Bologra’s gaze continued to linger on the cave, he began to notice movement inside; something was slowly and ominously emerging from the cave’s entrance. Its pattern was slow and sporadic as the creature seemed to be walking in zig zags, swaying from side to side. “Whew…” Arlas panted as she and Nair finally reached the top from behind him, she stopped and turned around, to help the Khajiit up as he finally reached the summit. “That… Looked a lot easier in my head…” “Shh!” Bologra hissed, slapping his paw down on her shoulder, almost knocking the Bosmer on her ass as he did so. Arlas winced initially but quickly saw what he was talking about as a man-sized, green skinned humanoid emerged from the darkness, snarling as it did so. It was a grotesque creature, a re-animated corpse, with several bones jutting out of its rotten torso. It was quite clear that this was a necromancer created zombie, much like the ones that Arlas saw, whilst studying conjuration. “We can take ‘em, right?” Arlas whispered, figuring that Bologra was the authority on such calls, though she knew that they could. The creatures were slow, basic and incredibly weak but a warrior would probably know the best way to bring one down, none-the-less. Bologra turned to her and gave her a dark smirk, with a look that questioned the seriousness of that remark. “Well, we’d suck if we couldn’t…” He replied, slowly straitening his back as the three zombies spotted them, outstretching their arms before snarling at them. Bologra just grinned as he took this as a challenge, marching forward as he got his new toy at the ready. Arlas glanced back to Nair, who drew his dagger, quickly rushing towards one of the zombies and lunging forward at it, stabbing it with a hefty swing. She would have observed his progress further, had another zombie not noticed her from afar, immediately growling at her as it shambled towards her. Arlas quickly conjured an ice spike, that lingered in the air for a moment before it was rocketed, straight into the zombie’s head, shattering the front of its skull, leaving its brain exposed. The Bosmer quickly recharged the spell, once more before firing again and penetrating its brain with the ice spike, serving as a fatal blow that killed it instantly. She watched as the undead abomination’s head jerked back and it fell down to its knees, falling to the floor as its runny brains dribbled out of its skull, forming a puddle around its face. Arlas’ stomach churned a little as she backed away, to avoid getting her feet soaked in the zombie’s blood, though she was quickly distracted from it, by the sound of hearty laughter. The Bosmer glanced over as she saw Bologra, holding up his bayonet arm, holding a zombie in mid air as it violently spasmed. The blade was buried deep inside its brain, with the tip of it sticking out of the top of its head; the tip grew larger as more was able to protrude out of its soft cranium as grey matter and rotten flesh slid down the Orsimer’s arm blade. Bologra just continued to laugh before pulling the arm down, suddenly, causing the zombie’s feet to hit the floor as he jerked his arm back, withdrawing the blade and letting the corpse fall to the floor, with a heavy thud. The Orc lifted his blade up and examined the blood on the end of it before flicking the bayonet to one side and flicking it off. As he did this, they heard the grunts and struggles of Nair, quickly prompting the two mer to turn their attentions to him. Nair was lay on his back, with a one armed zombie on top of him, it snarled and gnashed its teeth, mere inches away from his face as the Khajiit used what little strength he had left to hold it back. Arlas was quick to respond, quickly conjuring up another ice spike, which she swiftly flung into the creature’s temple, causing its head to jerk to the side as its growls were reduced to a gag as its neck was broken, resulting in its head swaying from side to side, waiting to be finished off. The Bosmer fired one more ice spike, which flew straight into the creature’s rotten ear, tunnelling through the grey matter inside its skull before stopping dead center in its brain. As the creature went limp, Bologra marched over to it and snatched it, throwing it to one side, so that the Khajiit could pull himself up, wincing as he did so as he looked around for his knife. “Dammit Khajiit, you can’t even stand!” “I’m… Fine!” He insisted, coughing some more as he looked around for the accursed blade. “Damn creature winded me…” “Yeah, like walking five steps did! That thing only had one arm and it still kicked your ass, you don’t belong here!” Arlas sighed and approached Nair, who quickly scrambled to take his dagger, which he swiftly took and reholstered before feeling the Bosmer’s hand rest on his shoulder. “What Bologra means is…” She paused, glancing up to the Orc with a frown before turning her attention back to the former bandit. “Nair… Things might get tough in there and we might not be able to save you this time. It’d be a load off of our minds and I’m sure yours as well, if we all knew that you were safe, back in Bruma.” Nair paused, wanting to protest before stopping to sigh heavily, seeing her point. In truth, that zombie had winded him and he just knew that there might be more inside. They were right of course, no matter how much he hated that fact, he would most likely die out here if he continued to push himself. “Very well…” He finally sighed, accepting defeat as he scratched his head, taking Arlas’ hand as it was offered to him and he was brought up to his feet. “I’m… Sorry, that I wasn’t able to help you after all.” The Khajiit sighed, glancing up to Bologra for a brief moment, who didn’t seem to care before turning his attention back to Arlas. “That’s not true… We wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” Arlas pointed out, though she instantly realised how incorrect that statement was as Nair was more of a hindrance than anything. Still, he meant well and he had been pleasant company, for the most part. Nair couldn’t help but chuckle at Arlas’ sensitive tip toeing, which he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m pretty sure that you would have gotten this done twice as fast, without me.” “Damn straight…” Bologra grunted, much to his Bosmeri companion’s annoyance. “Y’see? Bologra is never afraid to tell people the truth, when he knows it.” The Khajiit smirked, glancing up to the Orc. “Take care my friend, come back with that axe… or don’t come back at all.” “Hah, I might just let you lick it clean.” The Orsimer grinned, getting a slight smirk from the former bandit in response. “I should imagine that that will be necessary, after you get your grubby finger prints all over it. I’m not sure that Lorwel would accept it otherwise…” “Yeah? Well, if he don’t accept it, I’ll find some other way to give him, preferably by shoving it up his ass.” Arlas sighed, with mock annoyance, turning her attention back to Nair, with a longing gaze in her eyes. “See what you’re leaving me with?” Nair couldn’t help but chuckle, hanging his head and sighing as he shook it in shame. “I know… You’re losing your looks and your brains but don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you, when you get back, with drinks on the table to celebrate.” The Khajiit grinned, turning back and looking over his shoulder. “You take care cat.” He said, rather cheerfully as Arlas nodded in agreement. “Yeah, take your time and don’t push yourself.” She added, though it was mostly ignored as the Khajiit couldn’t help but register what Bologra said. “Oh Bologra, I didn’t know that you cared.” The Orc just shrugged, scratching his head. “Well, y’know… I’d hate to trip over your corpse on the way back.” He replied, getting an immediate giggle from the Khajiit as he did so. “Okay, that I did expect…” He admitted, glancing back over his shoulder and deciding that it was time to go. “Well, have fun storming the cave.” He added before turning back and departing, shimmying over to the rock’s edge before he began his hesitant descent, leaving the two Mer to face whatever challenge awaited them alone. As the cat folk disappeared over the ridge, the two of them turned around, losing their smiles, which were quickly replaced with frowns as they saw the dark path ahead. Arlas quickly drew her staff before marching on in, ready for whatever this cave had to throw at them… Category:Blog posts Category:Stories Category:The Legend of Nirn